“Well, you’re going to have a good start of it.”
Taniel’s mouth opened but he could find no reply. People were staring at them and their near-dead horses. He followed Vlora’s gaze off to his left. Brudanian soldiers flooded onto the street ahead of them, shouting and pointing.
“Leave the horses,” Taniel said, sliding from his saddle. He untied his saddlebags and threw them over his shoulder, taking his pistols and rifle, while Vlora did the same.
They slipped down a nearby alleyway, abandoning their horses and moving over to the next street. Taniel could see the soldiers flanking them, moving to keep up and spreading out up ahead. He put one hand on his pistol, ready to draw.
“We shouldn’t have a running fight here,” Vlora warned. “Too many people.”
“To the pit with the people. I’ll take first blood if they come any closer.” Taniel knew they had to get out of there. Vlora was right. A fight in the middle of the city would just attract more attention and draw in more soldiers. There’d be no backup. Adopest was now hostile territory. If the soldiers goaded them into a fight, they would no doubt bring in a Privileged sooner rather than later.
Taniel had fought a Privileged in Adopest before. It was less than pleasant.
“You recognize this part of town?” Vlora said.
“We’re near Hrusch Avenue, aren’t we?”
“It’s our old haunt.”
“I didn’t spend a lot of time in the streets,” Taniel said.
“I did,” Vlora answered. “And under them. There’s an old bathhouse up ahead. We might be able to slip into the storm drains.”
They crossed two more streets, watching warily as the soldiers continued to flank them while keeping their distance.
“What are they waiting for?” Vlora asked.
Taniel had just been wondering the same thing. They had the numbers. Even if Vlora detonated all of their powder – and she wouldn’t, not with all the people around – she might miss a few and they would close in with bayonets and swords, or worse – some of them might have air rifles.
The old bathhouse was a ruin of a three-story building at the end of the street. The doors and windows were boarded up, with signs telling the local children it was a dangerous place to play. Taniel spotted a Brudanian uniform up ahead of them.
“They’ve gotten in front of us,” he growled.
“Not only that.” Vlora’s face had gone pale. She didn’t have to finish her sentence. Taniel could sense the Privileged moving in on their position, one behind and one ahead of them. That was what the soldiers were waiting for. How the pit had they gotten two Privileged here so quickly? Either he and Vlora had been insanely unlucky, or the Brudanian commander had counted on needing reinforcements when Ka-poel’s kidnappers returned.
“Quickly!” he said.
They headed around to an alley running behind the bathhouse. Taniel thrust his bayonet beneath the board barring the back door and wrenched it away.
There was a crack of a musket and Taniel flinched away from where a bullet struck the wall beside him. He ripped off another board as Vlora squeezed off a shot, dropping the soldier at the head of the alley. Taniel slammed his shoulder against the locked door, bursting it in two heavy hits, and they rushed inside.
“The Privileged are getting close,” Vlora said.
“I know! Where’s the damned storm drain?”
“In the basement. Down the hall. Go, go!”
Taniel sprinted down the dark, damp hall of the bathhouse and past the shadowed, sludge-filled baths. A voice called out behind them in accented Adran.
“Adran soldiers, surrender now!”
Taniel slowed, pushing Vlora on ahead of him, and brought up his rifle. He waited in the darkness of a doorway for a soldier to put his head into the back door of the bathhouse.
His bullet took the man between the eyes. There was shouting, and Taniel felt the pressure of sorcery being pulled into this world. He sprinted after Vlora, following her down the steps and into the blackness of the basement. An extra snort of powder gave him clarity in the depths. He found Vlora in the farthest room from the stairs. She had pried the grate away from the storm drain and tossed her own saddlebags down the hole.
Taniel could hear footsteps pounding along the floor above them. “Why haven’t the Privileged attacked yet?” he demanded.
“Quiet!” she said. “Go, now!” He sensed her reach out toward the soldiers’ powder, detonating a few choice charges to sow confusion. The sound of the explosions echoed through the building.
Taniel climbed into the storm drain, his hands slipping on the rusted ladder bolted to the walls of the drain. He lowered himself down until his feet touched water and then let himself drop the last foot to the drain floor.
“Come on!” he called back up to Vlora.
Vlora stood above the storm drain, her head tilted as if listening for something. “Wait,” she said quietly. “There’s something…”
Her words were cut off by a sudden trembling. Taniel threw his hand above his head, his heart leaping into his throat as he heard the foundation of the building give a deafening crack. There was a strangled scream above him. He choked on dust, wiping water from his face.
“Quick!” he yelled.
His voice no longer echoed. Peering up through the gloom, he saw nothing but stone above him.
The building had collapsed on Vlora.
Chapter 44
Adamat accompanied Police Commissioner Hewi and six officers to arrest Lady Cheris.
Hers was a beautiful manor on the outskirts of the Routs in Adopest, not far from Ondraus the Reeve’s home. It stood three stories tall and overlooked one of the largest private gardens in the city. Adamat waited in the foyer, allowing the cool autumn air to blow over him from the open door while a pair of constables spoke with the butler.
“This is most unusual,” the butler said, raising his voice. “Lady Cheris is an upstanding member of society and will not be treated like a common criminal.”
Commissioner Hewi cleared her throat, interrupting a response from one of her constables. “My good man, I am the commissioner of the Adran police force. My presence here clearly indicates that Lady Cheris is a most uncommon criminal. Now, tell me where she is, or you’ll spend the next six months in Sablethorn.”
The butler looked as if he would protest further, but a glance at the stone-faced constables seemed to convince him otherwise. He appeared to deflate. “She’s in the sitting room. But Commissioner, she has guests. Surely this could wait for another time.”
Hewi moved the man to one side with her cane and strode past him. Adamat followed.
A constable opened the door to the sitting room and Hewi walked in as if she owned the home. Two men sat in armchairs by the windows, while the two sofas were occupied by four women, one of whom was Lady Cheris. Their conversation stopped midstride and they all looked in surprise at Commissioner Hewi, while Adamat stood in the corner with his hat in one hand.
This particular arrest was one that he had no interest in doing himself. Everything, including Ricard’s own word, indicated that Lady Cheris would be as hard to pin down as an eel.
“Commissioner Hewi!” Lady Cheris said, standing. “I wasn’t expecting you today. May I introduce Lord Elmore of the Novi National Bank? I believe you know everyone else in the room.”
“Charmed, Lord Elmore. Lady Cheris. Would you like to do this here, or see your guests out first?”
Cheris’s face clouded and she blinked rapidly. “Whatever could you mean?”
Adamat cleared his throat and glanced significantly at the constables guarding the door, though he knew Cheris was only playing the fool.
“Ah.” Cheris swallowed hard. “Lord Elmore. My friends. Would you be willing to resume this conversation tomorrow?”
The gentlemen and ladies all stood and Lord Elmore shook Cheris’s hand while casting dark glances at the commissioner. “Of course. Please let us know if there’s anything we can do for you.” They filed out the door and Adamat listened to be sure they had left the house. Once they were gone, Lady Cheris dropped onto one of the sofas.